Always Starting Over
by MaybeWeAre
Summary: It's been 7 years since Emma and Henry left for New York, and the people of Storybrooke have done their best to move on. Regina thought she'd started over, but her marriage is crumbling and her new life feels empty. With nothing to lose, Regina goes to New York to find the woman who doesn't remember her, but might be her best chance at happiness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: In this AU, Hook never managed to bring Emma and Henry back to Storybrooke. They've been living in New York with their false memories for seven years. Zelena was defeated, and things in Storybrooke have quieted down ever since then.**

**I got the idea for the story from listening to "Always Starting Over" and "You Learn to Live Without" from the musical ****_If/Then_**** over and over again. I highly recommend them ("Here I Go" also has a Swan Queen feel).**

* * *

The bells in the clock tower had been fixed years ago, but Regina still wasn't used to them. The man beside her slept peacefully through the chiming every night. Regina still slept, of course, but the bells broke through her dreams, a constant reminder that whatever she was thinking of wasn't real. Only Storybrooke was real, this bed, this marriage. This life that was becoming unbearable.

Tonight, she was wide awake. She stared up into the dark, counting along with the bells.

Ten, eleven, twelve. The world went silent again, aside from Robin's breathing, as if this midnight was the same as every other midnight.

It was Henry's eighteenth birthday, and Regina wasn't there.

She couldn't even imagine what he might look like now. Emma, she could picture, but not Henry. Not anymore. Henry would be off to college by now. He could be anywhere in the world, and that terrified Regina. She'd preferred to imagine him in New York, safe with the only other person who loved him as fiercely as she did.

Regina got out of bed slowly and quietly, careful not to wake Robin. She paused by what had been Henry's room, something small inside her breaking every time she looked at that door and reminded herself that it was Roland's now. That her little boy was gone.

She continued downstairs and into the kitchen, opening the container of cupcakes she'd made for Roland's school bake sale. Half chocolate for Roland, half vanilla for Henry. Just in case. She took one vanilla and set it on the counter, finding the birthday candle she'd hidden away earlier so that she wouldn't wake anyone by shutting cabinets so late.

Regina never used magic anymore. There wasn't much use, really. And while Robin hadn't forbid her from doing magic, he'd forbid her from doing it anywhere near his son. Regina hated him more for the fact that he'd said _his_ son than for limiting her use of power. She'd been the only mother Roland had known, but Robin made sure to remind him that Regina was only a stepmother. Even after all of these years, the little boy was distant.

The little act of defiance came easily, the candle lighting magically without Regina really having to think about it. She watched the flame, thinking back through the eleven birthdays she'd been able to share with Henry, the seven she'd missed. Even though she didn't believe in wishes, she always wished happiness for Henry just in case.

"You're using magic."

Regina jumped at the sound of Robin's voice, not expecting anyone to interrupt her. "It's one of the most basic spells there is. It couldn't possibly go wrong." Well, maybe in the hands of Emma Swan, but Regina had years of practice and discipline.

"I don't care what kind of spell it is." Robin stormed across the kitchen and snuffed the candle between his fingers before Regina could make her wish. "All magic is dangerous, and you're using it right here in our house!"

"_My_ house," Regina replied. She'd invited Robin and Roland in eagerly, but she was beginning to miss the days when it had been her impenetrable fortress, or when it had been Henry's home.

"Who it belongs to doesn't matter. You're putting my son's life in danger, and for what?

A midnight snack?"

Regina stood tall and looked Robin right in the eye. "It's Henry's birthday," she told him firmly.

Robin's expression shifted, more exasperated now than angry. "So you're putting Henry over Roland?"

"Henry is my son." Regina was beginning to outmatch his anger now. "Roland, as you so frequently remind me, is not."

"Henry _was_ your son," Robin said cruelly.

Regina could feel the heat building in her fingertips like it always did when she was threatened or furious enough to retaliate, but she balled her hand into a fist. She would _not_ be the monster Robin seemed to think she was. "Henry. Is. My. Son."

In a way, this almost reminded her of those early fights with Emma, and somehow that made Regina want Emma there with her. They'd changed, grown together. Before Emma left, they'd had what was beginning to feel like a real friendship, and a bit of a flirtation as well.

But Regina and Robin were growing apart. And he was saying these things only because he knew they'd hurt her. Emma had eventually acknowledged that Regina was a good mother to Henry, and Regina knew that she was an even better mother to Roland now that there was no curse to protect. Robin would never acknowledge that fact.

She needed to lash out somehow, so she took the cupcake and threw it hard onto the floor of her pristine kitchen.

It didn't matter anymore. She stormed past Robin and out the front door.

* * *

Regina kept driving even though she'd convinced herself miles ago that this was insane. She couldn't just drive through the night, all the way to New York.

She could never see the one she loved most again, but that meant Henry, not Emma. She could go find Emma. An Emma who would have no idea who she was.

But if she stopped now, she knew that she'd turn around, and that wasn't an option. Unless she had Emma and Henry in tow, she wasn't going back to Storybrooke. Now that Regina had let her anger and sadness loose she knew that she wouldn't be able to bottle it back up again. There was no going back to Robin.

She would miss Roland, her tree, and her parents' graves, but that was all. She no longer had a job to miss, since the people of Storybrooke had refused to reinstate her as mayor although she'd saved them all again and again. She had no real friends to speak of. Even Snow White had stopped checking in on her now that she had three small children to wrangle.

Regina was withering and dying in the house that had once filled her with so much pride. Roland was the age Henry had been when he decided he didn't need her anymore, and Robin had never needed her. At some point between Regina's second miscarriage and their fifth anniversary, they'd fallen out of love. But Regina felt worthless enough to stay.

It was like Leopold all over again, she'd realized. The stepchild that would always be prized over her, especially once she was unable to give birth to her own child. The neglect that followed. But this marriage was so much worse. She'd walked into it willingly, and she'd allowed herself to believe that she could be loved. She'd been stupid enough to keep hoping after a lifetime of all her hopes being dashed.

The worst part was that Regina knew she never would have gotten into this mess if Emma and Henry could have stayed. She would have thought the marriage through if it meant a new father and brother for her son. And while she didn't know what Emma would make of Robin, she would have been honest.

Robin might not have been an issue at all if Emma had stayed. Maybe what they were building towards in Neverland would have gone somewhere. But Regina tried not to think about the what ifs, and she didn't need a savior.

She was saving herself.

* * *

It was morning by the time an exhausted Regina reached New York. She got a hotel room just a few blocks from where Emma supposedly lived and, for once, fell asleep easily. And she slept deeply, the near constant ringing of her cell phone not enough to rouse her.

There were at least thirty missed calls when Regina blearily checked her phone in the afternoon, and about half as many messages. She went through them, pressing 7 and deleting each one as soon as she heard Robin's voice.

_Hi, Regina._

That one was Roland, and Regina took her fingers away from the keypad.

_I'm sorry you had to go away. I really hope you come back. I know you don't want to talk to Dad right now but if you want to send me an email or something I promise I won't tell. It's Roland, by the way. Come home soon._

Regina hung up immediately, holding the phone tight against her chest. Roland was the one person who could possibly change her mind. He'd said more to her in the phone message than he had in person in days, and Regina couldn't help wondering how he felt about her. Did he really miss her? Had Robin put him up to this?

She didn't let herself dwell on Roland for long. Despite sleeping, she needed caffeine. After a quick shower and picking a clean dress from the suitcase she'd conjured back in Storybrooke, she left the hotel and walked down the block until she found a bustling café. She managed to snag one of the few remaining chairs and sat down with her latte and sandwich.

Regina was flipping through a newspaper someone had left behind, trying to pretend that today was anything like normal, when she saw someone approaching her out of the corner of her eye. She focused harder on the words in front of her, trying to ignore the fact that the person stopped just beside her and lingered there.

"You stole my chair."

Regina kept her eyes on the paper for a second longer, trying to hide her rush of emotions. It had been seven years since she'd heard it, but she immediately recognized that voice. That irritating, wonderful voice. She looked up slowly, unable to keep from smiling.

Emma Swan, in a tasteful black leather jacket and jeans that, for once, didn't appear to be plastered onto her skin. There was a glint in her eyes that showed she was just kidding, but Regina played along. Mainly because she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I didn't see your name on it."

Emma grinned over a cup piled high with whipped cream. "You don't even know my name."

Regina gestured at the cup, and Emma turned it to see her name scrawled across the cardboard. "Emma," she said, and the name felt perfect on her lips.

The blonde sank down into the chair beside Regina. "I'll let you have the chair just this once," she said, "but I'm going to sit here and glare at you until you feel uncomfortable and leave."

The old thrill of sparring with Emma sparked something in Regina, and she gave Emma a coy smile. "Try all you want, but you'll never win, Miss –" She thankfully caught herself before she could blurt out Emma's last name. "Miss Emma."

"That's _Detective_ Emma to you," she retorted, picking up Regina's latte and turning the cup. "Regina. That's pretty." Emma didn't bother with the glaring, instead taking a sip of her cocoa. "I've never seen you here before, and I'm here a ridiculous number of times each day."

Regina just studied Emma for a moment, letting it sink in that she was actually here, inches away from Emma Swan. And, unless she was reading everything wrong, Emma was _flirting_ with her. She blushed at the thought, glancing away. "I'm new in town."

Emma didn't press for more, although Regina could tell that she wanted to. The brunette returned to attempting to read her paper, but all of her focus was on every tiny movement Emma made, every little sound. "Hey," Emma said after a minute, and Regina looked up immediately. "Do you have any plans tonight?"

Regina arched an eyebrow. "Are you asking me out, Detective?"

Emma bit her lip and considered. "It doesn't have to be a _date._ It's just… it's my son's birthday, and every year we go out for a special dinner to celebrate. But he's a freshman in college and I'm kind of bummed that I can't see him this year." She shrugged, looking self-conscious, reminding Regina of Emma's occasional spells of insecurity about family or magic. "So I could stay home and feel sorry for myself, or I could drag a total stranger to my son's favorite restaurant."

Regina couldn't help thinking back to midnight and how alone she'd felt, how far away from Henry. "That sounds nice, actually."

"Yeah?" Emma grinned, reaching into a pocket in her jacket and pulling out a business card. She scribbled her number on the back before handing it over. "That's my cell phone. Meet me here at 7?"

Regina turned the card over. _Detective Emma Swan, NYPD_. "I'll see you tonight. Emma," she added, reveling in the name.

Emma looked back at Regina three times as she made her way towards the door.

* * *

Regina stopped short when she came within sight of the café and caught a glimpse of Emma waiting outside. The blonde was more stunning than ever in a short, black leather dress that hugged curves Regina didn't even know Emma had.

For once, Regina felt like she was the one who looked shabby, but Emma's smile at the sight of her was enough to chase away any insecurity. "Hey there," the blonde said, reaching out for Regina's hand. "You came."

"I had nothing better to do," Regina replied nonchalantly although she was anything but. Emma's hand in hers was the closest thing to magic there was in New York.

While Regina hadn't _lied_, she was pretty sure that Emma could see right through her as always. She smirked but said nothing, simply looping her arm through Regina's and starting them down the street. "You look gorgeous, by the way."

"I don't." Regina ran a hand through her hair, wishing she'd thought to pack the products that usually kept it sleek. She desperately needed to do some shopping and pick up some makeup, too, since all she had to work with was the small stash she kept in her purse for emergency touchups. "I hope I'm not underdressed," she added, gesturing to her jeans and a shirt unbuttoned over a camisole.

"It doesn't matter what you're wearing. When you have a face like that, you're always gorgeous." Emma gave Regina's arm a reassuring squeeze. "And believe me, my kid's favorite restaurant would _never_ be a place that required dressing up."

"Well, you look…" Regina paused, not sure what word to use. Sexy certainly came to mind, but it was a little too blunt for her tastes. "Amazing."

When Regina stole a glance at Emma, she was happy to see that the other woman was beaming at the compliment. She kept that expression for several more blocks before stopping to open the door to a small Italian restaurant.

Regina was surprised that this was Henry's favorite restaurant. The dining area was dimly lit with only a handful of tables. Not particularly his style. Emma sat down across from her and didn't even bother to open the menu.

"Henry loves lasagna," Emma explained, and Regina set down her menu to look at her. "Just not when I make it. He swears this is the best he's ever had."

"Tell me about him," Regina urged, trying her best to keep the emotion out of her voice.

Emma smiled proudly, eager to gush about her son. "He is probably the smartest person I've ever met. He works so hard. I don't know where he got all that from, because it's certainly not genetics. He's a freshman at Stanford, which is just insane."

"That's incredible." Regina swelled with pride, although she didn't like to think of her little boy being so far away. But he wasn't her little boy anymore.

"He loves to read, loves to play video games. He has this great group of friends that have practically lived in our apartment since he met them." Emma winked at Regina. "I'm the cool mom."

"Of course you are."

Emma continued to talk on and on about Henry after they ordered, and Regina was thrilled that she was so forthcoming. She couldn't help wondering, though, if Emma was just trying to avoid talking about herself. So much was off limits: her childhood, her parents, the circumstances surrounding Henry's birth. Regina could relate, since there was practically nothing that she could tell Emma about herself.

Despite all their secrets, it was easy being together. Regina found herself watching Emma's every move. She'd never seen the blonde so happy and open, and the idea that the life Regina had created for Emma and Henry might be responsible made Regina feel lighter. Something good _had_ come out of letting them go.

The past seven years no longer weighed on her so heavily. She'd done the right thing. And now, finally, she might be able to find her own happiness.

"You have to try," Emma said, reaching across the table with a forkful of lasagna.

Regina set down her own fork and leaned in to taste it. "Not bad," she said once she swallowed, "but I make better."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "If that's true, my kid is going to leave me for you."

Regina smiled tightly at that, taking a sip of her wine. If only Emma knew how wrong she was.

"Shit," Emma suddenly said, staring at Regina's wine glass and dropping her fork with a clatter. "You're married?"

Regina's heart plummeted along with Emma's as she set the glass down and looked at her simple wedding band. She quickly took it off and set it on the table. "Yes," she admitted, "but I left him."

Emma looked skeptical. "But you still wear the ring?"

"I left him last night. The ring never occurred to me. It was the middle of the night, I was rushing…"

"Whoa." Emma cut her off and Regina cringed as she waited to hear what the blonde had to say. There was no way she would approve of Regina leaving her family with all of her abandonment issues. But Emma only reached across the table and took Regina's now bare left hand. "Did he hurt you?" she asked, nothing but compassion in her eyes.

"No, of course not!" Robin may have made Regina unhappy in many ways, but he'd never laid a hand on her. She knew what it was like to be a battered wife, but that had ended decades ago with Leopold's assassination.

"Abuse doesn't have to be physical." Emma was rubbing her thumb in circles on Regina's hand, and it was instantly comforting. "People don't understand that emotional abuse is serious, too."

"He didn't abuse me."

"Regina, I work in Special Victims. I see this kind of thing every day, and people don't just rush away from their spouses in the middle of the night unless there's something really wrong." Emma leaned in closer. "Besides, I have this superpower. I can always tell when someone is lying."

Regina rolled her eyes. "If that's true, then you know he never touched me."

"But he didn't treat you right. He isolated you from friends and family, broke your confidence, and made you feel worthless."

The truth in Emma's words stung. "You can't get all that from some ridiculous superpower."

"I got it from established patterns." Emma smiled grimly. "Why did you come to New York? Do you have family here?"

"I came to find an old friend," Regina told her softly. "But I haven't seen her in years and she doesn't remember me."

"If you need somewhere to stay, Henry's room is empty," Emma offered, and Regina just wanted to cry at how wonderful that sounded.

"The hotel is just fine," she said anyway, the usual pride standing in the way.

"You shouldn't be alone." Emma let go of her hand, and Regina ached to have that contact again. "Although I understand if you don't want to go home with a total stranger."

"At least I know your full name," Regina pointed out. "_I'm_ the total stranger."

Emma shook her head. "I see women like you every week, Regina. You're not a stranger." She shrugged, offering a meek smile. "And while I know this is totally reckless, I feel like I can trust you."

"You can." Regina stretched out her hand, and Emma easily took it again. "I'm Regina Mills."

"Well, Regina Mills." Emma ran her thumb over Regina's knuckles. "What do you want for dessert?"

* * *

Emma closed the door, leaving Regina alone in Henry's room, and despite herself Regina immediately had tears in her eyes.

There was a picture on the nightstand that must have been taken shortly after they left Storybrooke, eleven-year-old Henry laughing with Emma. This was what she'd given up, and although she knew she'd done the right thing, the thing Henry and Emma would have wanted, she couldn't help wishing that she'd gotten into the car with them and left Storybrooke to deal with Pan's curse without her.

There was so much more to take in as Regina circled the room. Clothing in the closet that amazed her with its size, his high school diploma framed on the wall, shelves brimming with books and comics. There were more photos of Henry at various ages, with Emma or with his friends, and one from prom with his arms around a pretty girl.

"Regina?" She jumped at the sound of Emma's voice, nearly knocking over a pile of papers on Henry's desk. "Do you need anything?"

Regina opened the door to find Emma in only an oversized Stanford t-shirt, hair back in a loose ponytail. The dress she'd worn earlier that night had looked incredible, but Regina couldn't help liking this more. "I'm all right. I have all my things." She gestured to the suitcase lying near the foot of the bed.

"I pulled out some towels in case you need them, and help yourself if you need something to eat or drink." Emma reached out and touched Regina's arm, smiling softly. "Sleep well. I'm right next door if you need me."

Regina leaned in and kissed Emma on the cheek, not daring to try for more. "Goodnight," she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper, before closing the door between them.

She got into Henry's bed, disappointed that it didn't smell like him. Or maybe it did, but not the little boy smell she'd been used to. Still, the fact that she had some sort of connection with him in this moment was enough.

There were no bells and no dreams, and Regina slept soundly through the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Regina slept in later than usual, still working off the exhaustion from her drive. She woke facing the picture of Henry and Emma, her eyes focusing on it after a few blinks. It was almost like being home, although she didn't have any pictures of Emma, and she'd moved her little collection of Henrys to her office for Robin's benefit. She'd kept his baby picture, though, right where it had been for seventeen years.

If only she'd thought to pack those pictures, or the boxes of Henry keepsakes stored in the basement. Although she imagined that it would raise suspicion if Emma came across photos of the son she believed to be only hers in her suitcase. Not that Emma was going to go through her things.

After Regina dressed, she found Emma sprawled on the couch, going through her things. Regina's purse was spilled out on the table, and Emma was lost in concentration with Regina's phone in her hands. The blonde was still in the t-shirt from the night before, but she'd pulled on pajama bottoms against the cold.

Regina's first instinct was to snatch the phone back and yell at her, but she was simply too happy to be in the same room with Emma. "Checking to make sure I'm not an axe murderer?" she asked as she sat down beside the blonde.

"Turning off your GPS tracker." Emma finished one last thing and handed the phone to Regina. "So your husband can't find you."

"He's not very technology savvy," Regina said absently, staring down at her screen. "I had this locked."

"I hacked it," Emma said with a shrug. "And it's better to be safe, right? You should get rid of your credit cards, too."

"I really doubt he's coming after me."

Emma reached out to touch Regina's shoulder. "I listened to some of the messages he left you. Is he, you know…" Emma gestured towards her head. "He sounds kind of delusional. Kept talking about magic."

"Magic is our cat's name," Regina said after a pause. She wasn't as good at covering her tracks as she had once been, now that she was out of practice.

Emma looked at Regina for a silent moment, her expression even more concerned than it had been the night before, and Regina was certain that she'd caught the lie. "I'm glad you stayed over."

"Me, too." Regina smiled, hoping Emma knew just how much she meant that. How this unfamiliar apartment already felt like home.

"I mean, from the moment I saw you I was hoping I'd get to bring you home." Emma blushed, and Regina could feel heat rising in her own cheeks. "Although that's totally inappropriate for me to say, given the circumstances. I really shouldn't be hitting on a victim."

The rush of nervous excitement at Emma's admission disappeared all too soon. Regina _hated_ that word. Snow White saw herself as a victim, batted around by circumstances and evils beyond her control. But Regina took responsibility for all she'd done. Perhaps she'd been a victim as a girl, but from the moment she shoved her mother through the mirror, she'd been so much more than that. Used, abused, mistreated, but not a victim. Although it sometimes took years, Regina always fought back.

She'd let Robin push her around out of a desperate need to be loved, but she was strong enough to handle him. She'd handled much worse.

"What?" Emma asked, studying Regina's expression.

Regina rose to her feet, glad that there was no magic here or she would have burned the only home Henry knew to ground. "_Never_ call me that again," she ordered, her voice pure Evil Queen. "I am not a victim and I don't need you to save me. I don't want your help." She shoved her things back into her purse and stormed towards the door, not bothering with her suitcase.

"Regina, I'm sorry," Emma said as Regina fought with the locks.

Regina whirled around to face her, finding Emma much closer than she'd expected. The proximity brought back so many of their early fights, but Emma had never apologized back then. She'd always seen herself as right. No, this was more like Neverland, when they learned to recognize each other's pain and back down if needed.

"That was a really stupid thing to say," Emma added. "Please don't go."

Regina refused to show that she was softening, but how could she walk away? How could she lose Emma yet again? "Why not?"

Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other, eyes flickering over Regina's face. "I don't want you to."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "That's hardly a reason."

"I'm not good at, you know, really connecting with people," Emma admitted softly. "And this sounds ridiculous but I feel like we connect somehow. There's something familiar about you, like I know you already."

Regina wondered if, somehow, she'd inserted herself into Emma's false memories. If her magic had left some sort of an imprint on the blonde. "I don't need your help," she said again. "I don't want to talk about my marriage anymore. I want to put that behind me."

Emma held up her hands. "I promise not to help you anymore. I was going to take you out to breakfast, but now _you_ are taking _me_." She headed to her room to change, glancing over her shoulder as if to make sure that Regina was still there.

Regina smiled despite herself. She did want to stay. She wanted to endure all of the frustration Emma caused. She wanted to take her to breakfast. She wanted to take her everywhere.

With Emma gone, Regina had her first chance to look around the living room and kitchen. Regina was accustomed to much bigger living spaces, but the apartment was surprisingly nice. There were plenty of big, bright windows over thriving houseplants. And Henry was everywhere, his face dotting the walls and appearing on end tables and shelves. She paused to study each picture, soaking in his bright smile and aching to think that she'd missed all of these moments.

"He was so cute when he was little," Emma said from behind her. "But our last building burned down and we lost all the pictures."

Regina nodded. That false memory was one she'd specifically created to explain why they had nothing but the clothing they left Storybrooke in. "You're so lucky to have him," she said softly, looking at Henry and Emma posing with a science fair volcano.

"Do you have any kids?"

Regina turned, and she could see the potential judgment in Emma's eyes. Leaving a husband was one thing, but leaving children would never sit well with the blonde. "None of my own," she said carefully, skirting Emma's lie detector. After all the times she'd declared that Henry was _her_ son, though, the words tasted bitter. Although she didn't miss those fights; she missed the moments when they called him _our_ son.

Emma relaxed into a smile. "Where are you taking me for breakfast?"

"I don't know anywhere but the café where we met."

"This is your first time in New York, isn't it?" The blonde sounded excited at her discovery. "I'm going to take you everywhere."

* * *

The only other city Regina had ever seen was Boston, but that in no way prepared her for the madness of New York. The traffic in the restaurant where they had breakfast put Granny's to shame, and Regina stuck close to Emma once they left, not wanting to risk getting lost. It was odd, walking down the street without all eyes on her after so many years of attention as queen, as mayor, and as the most feared woman in two realms. For the first time, she could be just another stranger, practically invisible.

Not always, she realized as Emma elbowed her. "That guy was seriously checking you out."

Regina didn't deign to look after him. "Are you jealous?"

"I'm not interested in men," Emma replied with a smirk.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I'm not jealous of him, either. I'm sure I'd be staring if I passed you on the street," Emma admitted. "And I certainly don't have any claim on you. We're just friends." She noticed Regina's smug smile fading. "For now," she added.

* * *

"You are quite literally the first person who has ever hated _Wicked_," Emma said with a laugh as they stepped out of the Gershwin Theater and into the night.

Regina slipped her program into the first trashcan they passed. "It was preposterous. Totally unrealistic." Obviously it was fiction, obviously it wasn't about Zelena, but the green makeup made Regina's skin crawl.

"Are you a big fan of the original movie or something?" Emma asked, and yet again Regina felt the blonde's fingers catch on hers. "I loved it. I was always a big fan of anything with orphans, since I was a foster kid myself." Regina squeezed Emma's hand, surprised to hear that admission so early on. "Plus Elphaba and Glinda are totally lesbians, so what's not to like about the show?"

Regina pursed her lips, not wanting to say the words aloud. But Emma had been so open with her, and while she couldn't exactly tell the whole truth, she could tell some of it. "The Wicked Witch of the West terrifies me."

Emma broke into a smile. "Aw. Did the movie traumatize little Regina Mills?" Regina shot her a warning look, and Emma stepped closer so their shoulders jostled against each other. "It's okay. I always hated those flying monkeys. But Henry is fearless, so he made me watch it a million times."

Regina opened her mouth to say "me, too," before catching herself. _The Wizard of Oz_ had always been one of Henry's favorite movies – all the more reason to be grateful that he hadn't been there to see Zelena. He probably would have been thrilled to know that the Witch was his aunt, and that probably would have ended badly.

"We don't generally go see shows, but he really wanted to check this one out. He's obsessed with the books, and he's dragged me to see it twice and gone with friends a lot of other times." Emma smirked in Regina's direction. "The actresses are always really hot, so I don't mind."

"How very shallow of you," Regina replied. "You really didn't have to see it a third time on my account."

"Hey, I'm the tour guide here." As if to prove it, Emma tugged Regina a bit closer to guide her around a clump of tourists. "And I'm giving you the classy artsy tour because you don't look like the hot dog from a cart type."

Regina wrinkled her nose at that. "_That_ is never going to happen, but you don't have to pretend to be classy for me."

"Gee, thanks." Emma nudged her shoulder again, harder this time.

"What I mean," Regina clarified, not that she was going to retract the insult, "is that I'm happy to do the things you'd like to do." She'd certainly noticed how fidgety Emma had been during their afternoon museum visit. "If there's a happy medium between the Met and hot dogs, we can put it on the schedule for tomorrow."

Emma shook her head with a frown. "I'm back to work tomorrow. And I'm saving all of my vacation days to visit Henry."

Regina couldn't be disappointed when it was for Henry's sake, although she did wish that she could spend more time with Emma. She found herself wondering what she was going to do alone all day, but that was a question she was all too familiar with. Ever since being relieved of her duties as mayor and losing her son, each day seemed longer and emptier than the last. She resented the fact that all she could do was play housewife to Robin. Now, at least, she was no one's wife, and if she chose to make dinner or tidy the apartment it would be nothing more than thanking Emma for making her stay.

"I'm sorry," Emma added.

"Don't be," Regina told her quickly. "You weren't expecting for me to fall into your lap."

Emma glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, a smirk quickly passing over her lips. "You haven't fallen into my lap," she said, suddenly stopping and grabbing Regina around the waist. "Yet."

"Get off me, you idiot," Regina groused as she very nearly fell onto the blonde. But she couldn't complain. The flirtation and contact were thrilling, and just as she'd asked Emma wasn't treating her like a victim.

* * *

The laughing and touching dried up as the two women took the stairs to Emma's apartment. Once they were inside, everything seemed more serious, the boundaries rising again. The lights came on and Regina could see how Emma was slightly, adorably, flushed, and as she so often did she couldn't help wondering.

What would have happened if Emma and Henry had stayed in Storybrooke? Would they have found this kind of ease in each other? Would Regina have married her instead?

The blonde trailed Regina to the door of Henry's room as if walking her home from a date. "Sorry I'm so awkward," she offered, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Not at all," Regina replied, her voice lower than she'd intended. "You're…" she searched for a word, frustrated that there was only one she could think of. "You're charming. Thank you for a nice day."

She had to admit that things were decidedly veering towards awkward as they stood there in the doorway. Emma finally stepped forward to hug her, and Regina eagerly leaned into the embrace. There was a comfort and a safety in Emma's arms that she hadn't felt since Daniel.

They whispered their goodnights, and then Emma reluctantly pulled away. As Regina got into bed, she wished that she'd just done it, just kissed the blonde. It was probably too soon, both after leaving Robin and after meeting Emma again. But the longer she spent with Emma, the more Regina realized that she'd been waiting for that kiss for years.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This is going a bit slowly because I'm still figuring out where it's going, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer!

* * *

Regina was used to time spent alone. She'd had eighteen years worth of it under the curse, after all. And ever since Robin took a job (at the animal shelter, which that idiot Charming had left understaffed when he declared himself some bizarre combination of sheriff and mayor) and Roland began school, she'd gone back to spending most of her time by herself.

She still hadn't gotten used to the empty, echoing house. No sneakers left precariously on the stairs, no backpack dumped in the foyer. She supposed she should be grateful that Roland left his shoes neatly against the wall and always took his things upstairs with him, but god, she missed Henry.

She was alone in Emma's apartment, but for the first time in ages she wasn't lonely. Henry was everywhere, not just in photographs but in the bookshelves and the kitchen cabinets. There were clocks scattered around his bedroom, and while the clothing in the closet was far too large, the haphazard way it was hanging was pure Henry.

And where Henry wasn't, Emma was: the line of leather jackets in the hall closet, the ice cream in the freezer, the bed she'd left unmade.

Regina made it for her, using the opportunity to snoop. Everything was brightly colored, a far cry from the brunette's home. Very different from the loft Emma had shared in Storybrooke, as well. Regina was surprised by the number of skirts in the closet and the number of hair care bottles and tools shoved into the top drawer in the master bathroom. Especially by the furry stuffed duck nestled between the pillows.

She looked just about everywhere, her curiosity and her need to be closer to Henry and Emma overwhelming.

Another surprise was Emma's well-stocked bookshelf, and Regina smiled to see a set of _Harry Potter_ books to match those in Henry's room. Regina hadn't allowed them when Henry was still hers, but she could see that they had become something that Emma and Henry shared.

She took the first, unable to stop herself from wanting a way in. She settled onto the sofa to read away the hours between her and Emma.

* * *

In the late afternoon, Regina turned on her phone and checked her messages again. There were several from Robin, but decidedly fewer than the day before. Decidedly different in tone, too, with several apologies.

But Regina didn't care how sorry he was. She could forgive him, perhaps, but she was never going back. Not when two days with Emma felt so much better than all those years with Robin.

She checked her email next, and that was when the regret sank in. She hardly ever got much in the way of email, nobody needing much of anything from her once she was no longer mayor. But today Roland's name sat next to an untitled message, and Regina reluctantly opened it.

_Hi Regina. Come home soon. Your a better cook than dad and he doesn't know what i like in my lunchbox. It's weird nobodys there when I come home from school and remember how you used to make me cocoa and you'd ask me about my day? I guess we don't do that anymore. Anyway i hope you come home I miss you. Maybe you can come to my soccer game its saturday._

Regina stared at the screen until the words started to blur, although maybe that was just the tears in her eyes. Of course she remembered those moments together, back when she'd still hoped that they could be a real family. Back when she thought Robin might change his mind about not letting her adopt Roland or that Roland might begin to call her his mother regardless.

She hurried to wipe her eyes when she heard the door unlock, but it didn't matter when Emma was as observant as ever. "Hey," the blonde said as she hung up her jacket and kicked off her boots. "How was your day?"

"Quiet." Regina gestured to the open book on the table. "I'm a little embarrassed by how much I'm enjoying that wizard nonsense."

Emma flopped down onto the other side of the couch. "Is it Harry who's got you down, or something else?"

Regina wordlessly handed over her phone. "It's this."

The blonde read the email with a furrowed brow. "You said you didn't have kids," she said slowly, as if the pace would help her make sense of the situation.

"Of my own." Regina took the phone back with a frown. "Roland is my stepson."

"Is he safe?" Emma asked immediately, looking torn between concerned and disappointed. "With your husband?"

"Robin has his flaws, but he's a wonderful father. He raised Roland alone for years. Seeing them together was what made me fall in love in the first place." She wiped at her eyes again, trying to hide any appearance of weakness. "I love Roland, but he's… Robin never let us be close. He always reminded both of us that I was not in any way Roland's mother."

"You miss him?"

"More than…" Regina stopped herself before she could say "anything." She missed Henry more than anything. As much as she loved Roland, there was no replacing the son who had wiggled his way into her closed-off heart, who had been the center of her world ever since she first held him, who she'd fought so hard for and then had to give up.

She caught a glimpse of a picture of Henry at the age she'd last seen him, and the tears came again, harder and faster. Love is weakness, she reminded herself, even though she knew that wasn't true. It was her love for Henry and her love for Emma that had given her the strength to let them go, and the strength to try to find them again.

Emma moved across the couch and took Regina in her arms, cradling the brunette's head against her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Regina."

Regina resisted the urge to fight, to get back to stoic. Instead, she took a deep breath, soaking in the scent of Emma's shampoo. "What if Robin is putting him up to the calls and the emails?" she asked. "What if he doesn't care that I'm gone?"

"He cares," Emma said immediately and firmly. "Is it likely that he needed prompting to get in touch? Very. But how could he not miss you?" She gently shifted away from Regina in order to see her better. "It doesn't matter if you're related to him or what your asshole husband says, Regina. You've been a constant loving presence in his life." Emma kept up the contact, lacing her fingers with the brunette's. "I never had a family before Henry, but sometimes I had people who loved me and took care of me, and I will never forget them."

Regina couldn't help smiling at the woman before her, this woman who had spent so much time in the past telling her what a terrible mother she was. "You might be right."

"I'm always right."

Regina rolled her eyes at that, but then quickly sobered. "My mother was never the nurturing sort, but I had this nanny who made me feel like someone actually cared for me.

I loved her very much." She left out the gruesome particulars of the servant's death, not wanting to alarm Emma.

"That's why I do what I do," Emma told her. "So the little Emmas and the little Reginas out there can have someone looking out for them." She tilted her head until it rested against the back of the sofa. "And so the grownup Reginas do, too."

Rather than protesting that she was not a victim, that she didn't need looking out for, Regina just met Emma's eyes softly. She wondered if it was obvious how much she loved the other woman in that moment. Love in her life had often been hard to come by, but as she listed those who had taken the time and the risk to care about her – the nanny, Daniel, even Snow White in her own bizarre way – she knew that Emma had done more than any of them. Years ago, Emma had found it in her to care about Regina despite knowing her horrible past. And right now in this apartment, Emma cared even though Regina was a complete stranger.

"If you want to get in touch with Roland, I'd be glad to help," Emma said, abruptly ending the moment of just looking at each other. "But first, let me get us some dinner." The blonde got up, and Regina's gaze trailed her into the kitchen.

Regina glanced down at her phone for a moment before putting it down. "What can I do to help?" she asked as she joined Emma in the small kitchen.

Emma rummaged through the fridge and the cabinets. "You can chop," she said, setting the vegetables in front of Regina. "That's my least favorite part."

"How gracious of you." But Regina couldn't help smiling, the sadness lifting from her. Having a task helped her take her mind off Roland's message, and she enjoyed all of the times Emma brushed against her as she maneuvered to and from the stove. Conversation went lighter, too, Emma telling stories about her coworkers and Regina asking questions about Harry Potter (almost all of which were answered with a cryptic warning that she'd see).

The mood continued through dinner, but it came to an end with a chime of Emma's phone. "I almost forgot," Emma said, startled. "Skype date with Henry. Would you mind if…"

"Go talk to him," Regina said tightly, the idea of possibly hearing Henry's voice both exciting and terrifying. As Emma hurried to set up her laptop on the kitchen table, Regina set about gathering up the dishes, needing to keep busy. Needing to get out of there before she saw Henry and fell apart.

"Hi, Mom."

The voice, deep and grown up, froze Regina in her tracks as she headed back towards the kitchen. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion down.

No one had called her Mom in seven years, and while she knew the name wasn't for her, she soared and sank with it.

"Hey, kid," Emma replied, and that was almost worse. Henry sounded different, but Emma didn't, and Regina had heard her speak those exact same words so many times.

"Who's that?"

"That's, um, my friend. Regina. She came for dinner," Emma answered cautiously.

"Hi, Regina."

Regina turned slowly, and it was only through years of practice that she was able to hide all that she was feeling. Emma was grinning over her shoulder at her, and beyond that, Henry was giving her a little wave from the computer screen. "Hello, Henry," she said stiffly. Her smile was genuine but fleeting, and she quickly turned and hurried into the kitchen. She set the plates in the sink and then gripped onto the edge of the counter as if it was the only thing that could keep her up.

This was nothing like how it felt to have a heart ripped out of your chest, Regina knew that. But it was the only comparison that seemed apt, that could explain the painful constriction inside of her, the way her body seemed to ache just as much as her mind.

What made her think that she could do this, that finding Emma and Henry would at all make things hurt less? Why hadn't she just made herself forget? She hurried out of the apartment as quietly as she could, sinking down against the other side of the closed door that blocked out the video chat.

She couldn't forget, she reminded herself, because no peace could ever make her as happy as those eleven years of memories.

But that didn't mean she had to bring them all back. Regina found herself itching to run. Not home, not back to Robin. Somewhere new, far away from her complicated past.

The door shifted behind her eventually, and Emma carefully stepped around her. The blonde took a good look at her before sitting beside her. "You aren't trying to leave me again, are you?" She rested her arms on her knees, staring straight ahead at the stairwell. "I've done a lot of running. Sometimes it seems like the easy answer, but it never worked out well for me." She reached out and set a hand on the floor between them, letting Regina choose to take it or leave it. "You don't want to get involved with someone else with a kid after Robin and Roland?"

Regina couldn't resist. She slipped her hand into Emma's. "I just don't want to impose anymore." She was pretty sure that was a lie.

"Here's the thing," Emma said, still not looking at Regina. "Since the moment I brought Henry home, we've never been apart for more than a day or two. I don't have family, I'm not great at friends or relationships… It was always just the two of us."

Regina just nodded, her throat tight and not letting any words escape. Her life with Henry had been that way, too, until the day he ran off to find Emma.

"So it's been hell not having him here. He's on the other side of the country and for the first time in eighteen years, I'm alone. And then I met you, and I don't have to feel as alone anymore." Emma gave her hand a squeeze, their eyes finally meeting over a shy smile. "You aren't imposing. I mean, I almost forgot to Skype Henry tonight because I was talking to you, and it would have sucked if I missed him completely, but I'm glad I wasn't just sitting there staring at the screen for an hour before."

"It's nice to feel helpful," Regina told her softly. "To feel wanted."

"I want you here," Emma promised her, and rose to her feet so they could head back inside.

* * *

They'd been sitting on the couch for a few hours, just close enough that Regina was acutely aware of every slight movement Emma made. The blonde was watching something on TV, but Regina tuned it out as she returned to her book. She was engrossed in the story, only pulled from it by Emma's head gradually dropping onto her shoulder.

Regina set down her book, careful not to wake Emma, and turned off the TV. She considered getting Emma a pillow and blanket for comfort. But _this_ was so comfortable, sitting together, Emma's weight and warmth pressed against her, and the last thing Regina wanted was to retreat into a separate room. She wanted this, needed this. After a day filled with reminders of all she'd lost, she couldn't bear the thought of going to sleep alone.

Emma was all she had, and Regina wanted to make the most of it. She managed to pull the blanket off of the back of the sofa without disturbing Emma, and she tucked it around them. Letting her head rest against blonde hair was easy, but not wrapping her arms around Emma was hard. Not with the constant urge to be closer, to take anything and everything that Emma would give her.

Regina closed her eyes and breathed in Emma's scent, bringing her back to the simple moment, to the contact between them, and carrying her off to sleep.


End file.
